


i wanna feel alive (garden of eternal sunshine)

by closertoheavenn



Category: Dickinson (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, anyways i think about the season 2 finale about 60 times a day, but i just HAD TO, i believe in emisue soulmates supremacy, i just live for their love, i've never written fluff before lol, it’s so Quiet and Endearing, so I wrote this, the answer is: probably not, they understand each other so well, will i ever stop writing these two???, ✨manifesting this energy for season 3✨
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 04:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29869053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closertoheavenn/pseuds/closertoheavenn
Summary: Sue doesn’t sleep in the guest room – she sleeps in Emily’s bed instead.In the middle of the night, she wakes up, missing the warmth of Emily’s body. Emily is sitting at her desk, a pencil between her fingers, staring out into the brilliantly dark night.“You’re up,” Sue mutters, sitting up straight, still a little sleep-drunk.“Yep. Couldn’t sleep.”“What are you doing?”“I’m writing you a poem,” Emily replies.The corners of Sue’s mouth turn upwards. “What is it about?” she asks.“I don’t know yet,” Emily answers, smiling warmly at the girl in her bed. “Something about grapes. Oranges, maybe."//or: Emily and Sue, post-season 2.
Relationships: Emily Dickinson/Susan Gilbert Dickinson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 207





	i wanna feel alive (garden of eternal sunshine)

The day the church burns down, Sue comes home late in the evening, her dress half-unbuttoned and her hair damp and messy.

Austin is waiting for her in the kitchen – his head in his hands, his wedding ring on the table. 

“Austin, I –”

“You don’t need to tell me where you’ve been. I don’t want to know,” Austin says, his voice tight. “I should have known this marriage was over before it even started.”

Sue swallows hard. 

Austin stands up and leaves the room. “I think you should sleep in the guest room tonight,” he says.

//

Sue doesn’t sleep in the guest room – she sleeps in Emily’s bed instead. 

In the middle of the night, she wakes up, missing the warmth of Emily’s body. Emily is sitting at her desk, a pencil between her fingers, staring out into the brilliantly dark night. 

“You’re up,” Sue mutters, sitting up straight, still a little sleep-drunk.

“Yep. Couldn’t sleep.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m writing you a poem,” Emily replies.

The corners of Sue’s mouth turn upwards. “What is it about?” she asks.

“I don’t know yet,” Emily answers, smiling warmly at the girl in her bed. “Something about grapes. Oranges, maybe.”

//

They don’t talk about it.

The next morning, Austin wears his wedding ring again. He kisses Sue on the cheek and tells her he’s going over to Jane’s to help with the baby. 

“Have a nice day,” she tells him, sipping her ginger tea. There is no vindication in her voice. 

He smiles at her – that genuine, lopsided grin of his that she hasn’t seen in a long time. “You too,” he says.

//

A few weeks later, the family leaves Amherst for a couple of days – something about a Congress in Boston the Dickinsons are forced to attend. 

Emily and Sue are the only ones who stay behind.

“Are you sure I can leave you alone in the house for a couple of days?” Mrs. Dickinson mutters as she puts on her coat, only half-joking.

“I won’t be alone,” Emily argues, smiling at her best friend. “I have Sue.”

The carriage isn’t even fully out of sight when Sue slams the front door shut and hastily pushes Emily up against it. 

“ _God_ , I’ve been waiting to do this all day,” she sighs excitedly, licking into Emily’s mouth. “Let’s go upstairs.”

//

The early morning sun is pouring through the window, emerging the room in a golden shimmer. Sue breathes in deeply, slowly waking up. Emily is curled inward towards her, head tucked against her sternum. She reaches out her hand to touch Emily’s clavicle, the skin warm beneath her fingers, the golden rays slowly soaking into Emily’s skin. Sue watches her for a few moments before deciding to get out of bed. She hears a soft complaint as she tries to throw off the covers. Two arms tighten themselves around her waist. 

Sue can’t help but laugh. “I’m going to make breakfast,” she explains, trying to pry herself away from Emily’s grip. “I’m hungry.”

Emily shakes her head.

Sue smiles softly at the sight of the sleep-drunken girl in front of her. “Okay, you win.”

She crawls back into the bed and closes her eyes, nuzzling back into the warmth of Emily’s body, and falls into a light and easy slumber. 

//

A couple of hours later, in the soft white-gold light of the late morning, Sue tries to get up again. Emily quickly clasps her arms around her body once again and presses her lips against Sue’s lower back.

“Don’t go,” she mumbles, eyes still closed.

“I’m _starving_ ,” Sue protests. “It’s Maggie’s day off. Breakfast isn’t going to make itself, you know.”

She places a quick kiss on Emily’s temple. “I’ll make you the best breakfast in bed you’ve ever had,” she says.

“Wait, did you say ‘breakfast in bed’?” Emily asks, opening her eyes slowly to allow them to adjust to the bright light from the sun.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had breakfast in bed when I’m not sick,” Emily remarks.

“Me neither,” Sue replies, intertwining her fingers with Emily’s. “Runny eggs and tea?”

Emily falls back into her pillows, the faintest shadow of a smile playing around her lips. The light of the sun floods her face. “Gosh, I just can’t believe you’re real sometimes,” she marvels, staring at their interlaced hands.

Sue bites the inside of her cheek, a soft blush spreading across her face. She looks at the arms that are still around her waist. “If you want your eggs, you’re gonna have to let me go, Em.”

Emily sighs dramatically as she withdraws her arms with almost tangible reluctance. “Don’t stay away for too long, okay?”

Sue slides of the bed and puts a shawl over her shoulders. “I promise,” she says, kissing Emily’s cheek before hurrying downstairs.

//

The rest of the day is draped in bright sunlight – they spend it eating fruit, reading, playing chess, sharing lazy kisses, cloud gazing, writing poetry, wandering through the orchard hand-in-hand.

At the end of the evening, as the sky blossoms red and gold, they sit on the porch, soaking in the warmth the last rays of sun provide them. 

“Sue?”

“Hm?”

“Let’s bake a cake for dinner,” Emily says.

Sue lifts her head from Emily’s shoulder and turns to face her. “Are you serious?” she asks, amused.

“ _Deadly_ ,” Emily says.

“Well, come on then, what are we waiting for?” Sue grins, standing up, offering Emily her hand.

//

They stand side by side in the kitchen, working a comfortable silence as they prepare the batter. When they’re finished, Sue pours the bowl of cake batter into a pan. She puts the pan into the oven. When she turns around, she sees Emily running a finger along the sides of the bowl, collecting the left-over batter.

“Emily!” Sue exclaims as Emily puts her finger into her mouth.

“What?”

“Don’t eat the raw cake batter!”

“But this is the best part of baking!” Emily replies. She takes her finger out of her mouth and collects even more batter onto her finger. “Want some?” she says with a grin, holding out her battered finger to Sue.

Sue rolls her eyes. “You’re the actual worst,” she replies as she puts Emily’s finger in her mouth and licks it clean.

//

They eat their fruit cake in bed, talking and laughing, feeding each other little bites. After they’re finished, they lie on the bed next to each other, staring at the ceiling. The sheets are still made up, but the pillows are thrown the floor, along with most of their clothes.

“Em?” Sue says.

Emily hums in response. 

“I never thought it could be anything like this.”

Emily turns her head, eyes bright. “Like what?” 

Sue smiles at the sight. “Like a dream,” she says, leaning forward to kiss Emily again, her hand slowly sliding between her thighs.

//

The Dickinsons come back from their trip to Boston and their dream ends. It's back to the quick touches, the secrets, the hiding, the _pretending_.

(The dream may end, but as they wake, they can still feel it in the tips of their fingers, lingering on the edges of their minds).

//

Sue and Austin still host salons, every once in a while. 

Sam Bowles is never invited anymore. 

Their salons are no longer the talk of the town – no more Sam means no more write-ups, no more names in the paper, no more _fame_.

But that’s okay, Sue decides as she stumbles into the bedroom after the salon, a little drunk. Emily is patiently waiting for her, naked, under the sheets. “Hi,” she rasps.

“Wow, Sue, you look _beautiful_.”

//

The seasons fade in and out like soft lullabies.

Before they know it, the summer has ended and autumn arrives with regal ease. 

The Evergreens has become a bit of a ghost – Austin spends most of his nights at Jane’s, Sue only sleeps there when she doesn’t stay the night with Emily.

Still, Austin and Sue eat breakfast together at the Evergreens twice a week – they drink herbal tea and share two apples, some slices of bread and chestnuts, for old time’s sake.

“Austin?” Sue says, one particularly rainy morning in October.

“Hm?”

“I think, in another life, you and I would’ve been really good together. A life where you wanted a little less and I wanted a little more.”

Austin swallows a chestnut. “Yeah,” he nods, solemnly. “Me too.”

The eat the rest of their breakfast in silence, the weight of their conversation thick in the air. 

It’s the closest she ever gets to leaving him.

//

It is tradition to spend Thanksgiving at the Homestead – eating, drinking, singing, sharing stories.

It is also tradition for Emily and Sue to make the Thanksgiving dinner together. Lavinia offers to help them.

The three of them work in the kitchen with relative ease, laughing and gossiping until their throats are sore.

If Lavinia keeps seeing Emily and Sue’s hands touching when cutting the bell peppers and peeling the sweet potatoes and the little smiles on their faces, she doesn’t mention.

//

Emily and Sue visit the Amherst Annual Christmas Market together on the first day of winter. 

Tiny white snowflakes billow against the sky as they soak up Amherst’s festive atmosphere, wandering between rows of colorful stalls, festooned with twinkly lights. Piped Christmas tunes float through the air as throngs of visitors make their way through the walkways laced with stands where they sell baked apples, pancakes, gingerbread houses and edible Santa’s.

Emily buys the two of them hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows and of course, candy canes.

“We should buy new decorations for your Christmas tree,” Emily says, pointing to a little stall with all kinds of ornaments. 

Sue takes a sip of her hot chocolate. “Our.”

“What?”

“We should buy new decorations for _our_ Christmas tree,” Sue clarifies.

Emily smiles – warm and content. “ _Our_ Christmas tree,” she repeats, biting down on the very last half of the very last candy cane.

(And if Sue can’t stop staring at Emily for the rest of the afternoon, because her mouth is stained all red-dye pink and her lips are slick and freshly-licked, then that’s neither here nor there.)

//

They throw a huge party on Christmas Eve.

At the end of the night, Austin, who is drunk on cheap brandy (and perhaps a little bit on love), kisses Jane square on the mouth.

No one bats an eye.

Sue pretends not to see the way Emily is looking at her. She presses her fists in her eyes in an attempt not to cry and doesn’t say a single word for the rest of the night.

(“Are you upset because –” 

Sue shakes her head, her lips trembling. A single tear rolls down her face.

“It’s not Austin,” she says, her voice breaking. “It’s you. Do you have any idea how much I would give to be able to kiss you in public like that?”)

//

Christmas morning is cold and rainy.

“A rainy Christmas is the worst kind of Christmas,” Emily groans, looking out the window. “Let’s just stay in bed the whole day.”

They do.

//

New Year’s Eve is spent stargazing. They are laying in the damp grass, amid the wintry air, beneath the cloudless starry-black. 

“Do you think the universe is endless, Sue?” Emily asks.

I think you’re my universe, Sue thinks. She looks over at Emily.

“I want to marry you,” she says, softly. “Emily, marry me.”

Emily eyes fly wide open. _“What?”_

Sue sits up, watches the grass field stretching out before them, the brilliant velvet air above. 

A laugh escapes Emily’s mouth. She sits up next to Sue. “You want to marry me?”

Sue nods. “Be my wife – ” she chokes. “I know that we can’t _actually_ get married, but I – I love you, and I don’t –”

“Sue…”

Sue takes her hand and intertwines their fingers. There are tears in her eyes. “Emily, you’re my best friend and the love of my life. I love you so, so much. When I’m with you, I feel like I can do anything. So, marry me, _please_.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Emily whispers, her voice breaking halfway, and Sue’s lips are quivering, and she’s smiling through her tears. “I will, I will, _I will_.”

**Author's Note:**

> maybe a little rough around the edges, but that's because i never write fluff (i LIVE for the AngstTM), but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!
> 
> btw i have no idea if thanksgiving was celebrated in this time period, but i was too lazy to look it up so let’s just pretend they do actually celebrate :)


End file.
